There’s a long shot/long take at the very end of the film, in which — foregrounded in no way, so it is easy to miss — amidst a whole crowd of people doing all sorts of things, we see some sort of contact between two of the minor characters (as far as I could tell, it was Georges’ son Pierrot and the son of the Algerian suicide) that suggests even new levels of complicity and uncertainty. I think that this only reinforces the film’s overall coldly delirious deadlock. The more explaining we need to do, the more we are trapped in the film’s (and society’s) self-reflexive spiral of guilt and privilege. The film offers no way out, because it never breaks with its sense of privilege, no matter how unwarranted it shows that privilege to be. The creepiness of finding oneself under surveillance, the creepiness of seeing a marriage break down into mutual vicious recriminations, is nothing compared to the creepiness of realizing that one still has one’s shield of privilege despite these intrusions, and that the facade of bourgeois marriage will survive everything that’s going on underneath.

Footnote: I think that some sense of this ethico-political mise en abime is what explains Armond White’s otherwise bizarre review of the film, in which he blames Haneke for exploiting the Third World yet again under the guise of supporting it, and for lacking the alleged “complexity and brilliance” and moral clarity of Spielberg’s Munich. White’s adoration of Spielberg is reprehensible and unconscionable, but the reasons he hates Haneke are pretty much identical to the reasons I consider Haneke is one of the best and most important European directors working today.

There’s a long shot/long take at the very end of the film, in which — foregrounded in no way, so it is easy to miss — amidst a whole crowd of people doing all sorts of things, we see some sort of contact between two of the minor characters (as far as I could tell, it was Georges’ son Pierrot and the son of the Algerian suicide) that suggests even new levels of complicity and uncertainty. I think that this only reinforces the film’s overall coldly delirious deadlock. The more explaining we need to do, the more we are trapped in the film’s (and society’s) self-reflexive spiral of guilt and privilege. The film offers no way out, because it never breaks with its sense of privilege, no matter how unwarranted it shows that privilege to be. The creepiness of finding oneself under surveillance, the creepiness of seeing a marriage break down into mutual vicious recriminations, is nothing compared to the creepiness of realizing that one still has one’s shield of privilege despite these intrusions, and that the facade of bourgeois marriage will survive everything that’s going on underneath.

Footnote: I think that some sense of this ethico-political mise en abime is what explains Armond White’s otherwise bizarre review of the film, in which he blames Haneke for exploiting the Third World yet again under the guise of supporting it, and for lacking the alleged “complexity and brilliance” and moral clarity of Spielberg’s Munich. White’s adoration of Spielberg is reprehensible and unconscionable, but the reasons he hates Haneke are pretty much identical to the reasons I consider Haneke is one of the best and most important European directors working today.

by way of intro O otherwise known as me has resided outdoors the last 12 years –therefore i can be placed in homeless category which assume is outside of what you mean by privileged- a position with which you seem to identify given your sense that “bourgeois perfection” a la posh well kept apartments with latest tech accoutrements would be your aspiration if you could be a more perfect muppie given the y of yuppie is a misnomer for characters who are middle-aged and not ascending but living a stasis you refer to as perfect bourgeois and glittering surfaces of perfection in contrast to the working class arab man’s miserable life which would then explain him slitting his throat if he’s seen as miserable at first sight– i’m not going to think about whether it’s true that structurally the film puts the viewer in white male position raising issues of guilt and complicity of the so-called privileged against others that warrants your writing in terms of we who suposedly feel guilt and complicity watching the film thus displacing your particular experience onto a collective we– for more cache thought http://kdotdammit.livejournal.com/677397.html#cutid1 also of interest in blogsville the latest round of moderne pop mumblings from mark k-punk and simon reynolds on the meaning of arctic monkeys

a lovely review. reading your review, i am reminded of the on-screen grilling the narrator in Fight Club gives himself about the interior of his pad and pads of other gents like himself. self-loathing drives them to the fight club. at least they have that. what do bourgeois intellectuals have as catharsis? guilt and a wine cellar?

I’ve yet to see the film, but I wanna see it soon – I’m sick and tired of the rummage of white, liberal guilt films (Crash, Constant Gardener) Hollywood think is oh so great and socially conscientious.

Very thoughtful and interesting post. I saw the movie after reading your take on it. Poor George he suffers so blindly. If he could take some responsibility he may not suffer so much. I think the tapes were of supernatural origin.

I am interested in your views of Spielberg’s Munich. Did you already post something on this? I have seen both movies and they couldn’t be more different. I left Cache more sure of my feelings and my interpretation of its themes, Munich left much more puzzled.

That last scene (since I’ve finally seen it) seems to suggest, at least, that there’s complicity between the two sons. The penultimate scene occurs in ’61, when the Algerian boy is removed from the farm; so the last scene also may be in the past, ie before the opening scene with its first surveillance tape. So the two sons join forces, overcoming their fathers’ antipathy? I think Haneke is certainly suggesting this as a possiblity, although of course the whole point is that the movie works without it. It’s an explanation as afterthought, and so not necessary at all. But it’s there, and being there it fucks up the office invasion scene, since the Algerian son should be more shaken than he is at his own complicity in his father’s suicide. So should Pierrot, but I thnk we don’t see him after the suicide.

I have trouble with the story in this film. Is six year old George really to blame for Majid’s circumstances? What about the adults in this scenario? I would expect them to be the ones to recognize childish jealousies and tale-bearing. As horrendous as the eventual consequences were I am not sure I would expect a person to have anticipated those consequences at six years old.